The next morning, I wake before Marshall, which, given he's always woken before me, is just another sign he's not fully recovered yet. But then I get a look at the bandage on his chest, and I get my next biggest clue.
As he sleeps, I rise to clean and rebandage his chest before I check on the fire, not bothering to pull my shirt back on before I do. It doesn't take me long to confirm that there isn't going to be enough wood to last us another night. And we're going to need more water since I used most of it to give us a sponge bath, and the rest we drank with our strange meal the other day.
A shower sounds great right now, but with no bath in sight or any way that can happen unless I can get Marshall to the stream a few miles away, it doesn't look likely.
I sigh. I guess that's a tomorrow problem.
"Baby?"
I turn to Marshall and find him lying on his back with his head twisted to face me. "Morning."
He frowns. "What's the sigh for?"
I return to his side and sink to the mattress beside him. "Nothing. Just thinking a shower would be nice."
I'm completely unprepared for Marshall sitting up. But before he can get all the way, I grab his shoulders and shove him back.
"Hey!" The wide-eyed surprise on his face would be hilarious if I wasn't so concerned with him hurting himself again.
"You're not healed yet. You still need to rest."
"Jellybean, I'm not in pain. My neck is fine. My belly is fine. I'm ready to get up."
Despite his assurance, I'm not convinced. "Marshall, you're stronger than me. A lot stronger. It shouldn't have been this easy for me to get you flat on your back. You need to rest."
His frown deepens. "I'm fine. I've been doing nothing while you singlehandedly care for us both. You want a shower? Getting up and taking you to a stream is the least I can do." He pauses. "You'll have to tell me where the stream is, but I'll take you. I don't want you out there alone again."
"You fell asleep before I told you I love you."
He considers me in silence for several seconds before lifting a hand to my hair and combing his fingers through it. So far, I'm lucky it's not a mass of tangles yet, but if I don't get it washed and some conditioner in it soon, brushing it will be a lengthy and painful process, and one I'm not looking forward to.
"That's rare," Marshall concedes.
I shake my head. "It's not rare. You never fall asleep before I've told you I love you."
If we're both busy with work and can't spend the night together, then we'll always speak on the phone. But we've always told each other we loved each other before going to bed. Well, before I told Marshall we couldn't be together anymore when he spoke about us becoming mates.
"I need to get up and start hunting out those shifters, and I'd like to know why they haven't done anything when it wouldn't have been hard for them to track us here, not with how much I was bleeding."
I know. It's a thought that I'm trying not to think about as well. "They only appeared after I left Kier's cabin. Maybe they went after him?"
Marshall slowly nods, but he doesn't look convinced. "Maybe."
"But you don't think that."
"I'm thinking why they went after you at all when you have no connection to Kier other than this one visit."
I don't have an answer for him, so I shrug. Why the shifters have stayed away is as much a mystery to me as it is to Marshall, but nothing can hide my relief that they have. But I worry about Kier because the shifters were heading toward his cabin, and I hope they didn't kill him because even though I only met him once, I liked him.
Right now, all Marshall and I can do is wait for him to recover and get back to the rest of the pack, because I have a feeling we're going to need their help, especially if those shifters didn't come to Hardin alone.
"Now, about this stream," Marshall says.
"No."
His frown deepens. "You know, jellybean, I'm not fond of this new habit of yours of saying no."
I lean down and kiss him lightly on the lips. "It's because I care. I don't want you hurting yourself getting up sooner than you should."
His hand slides into my hair, and he extends the kiss. "I got up last night and nothing happened," he murmurs after.
I pull back, despite Marshall's attempt to hold me against him. "You bled through your bandage, and I had to rip up a sheet and use that instead."
Again, his stunned amazement would make me smile if we weren't talking about him re-injuring himself. "What?"
I nod and back up even more so he can see the new bandage. "See."
"Shit, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"It's okay. It's my fault as much as yours. I knew what would happen once we started down that path."
"Is that regret I hear in your voice?"
I sigh. "Not regret. I'll never regret being with you. I guess I should've tied you down or something."
This proves to be exactly the wrong thing to say when Marshall's eyes darken with desire. "I'm liking this new side of you, jellybean. Riding us to climax, talking about tying me down… bathing in a stream together. I think we should stay here forever."
I snort out a laugh and move away. Only Marshall's hands tighten in my hair, preventing me from going too far. "And meeting my gaze without looking away once. I think I like that best of all."
My eyes widen when I realize he's right. We were just chatting away, and I was meeting his gaze and not feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable. Immediately, I look away, but when I realize what I'm doing, I force myself to return my gaze to his.
Marshall nods approvingly, and a smile settles on his lips. "Better, jellybean, better. Soon you'll be outstaring Dayne, or even more impressive, Talis."
I laugh at his ridiculous statement as I move to get up. I need to focus-firewood isn't going to get itself.
Again, Marshall stops me. "Where are you in such a rush to get to?"
"Up. I need to-"
"Have a repeat of last night?"
"No. I-"
"Need to surprise me with another new position?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Marshall, don't be silly. I…" My voice trails off as, despite my intention to keep my mind on my task, which is to go get some firewood and refill the pot with water from the stream, I can't help but consider it.
There aren't many positions that I can think of that Marshall wouldn't want to move because of what I was doing to him. But there's one. At least that's what happened the last time, and even though the act shouldn't have given me any pleasure, somehow it did.
"Whatever you're thinking to put that look on your face, the answer is yes."
I focus on Marshall, and when I realize I'm twirling a finger in my hair, I pull my hand free. "What look on my face?" I murmur, fighting to keep my gaze on his face instead of creeping lower the way I want to.
He kisses me on the lips and eases me back so he can search my eyes. "Hunger, baby. Those gorgeous blue eyes are filled with hunger."
"Oh."
"Hmm. But what I'd like to know is what it is you're hungry for?"
It's my turn to kiss him. "You."
"Me?"
"Hmm-mmm."
"And how can I sate this hunger?" His hand strokes up and down my bare back, making me sigh into his mouth as my body warms in response to the feel of his touch.
"Don't move." I kiss him one more time and sit back on my heels.
Marshall blinks up at me in confusion. "Don't move? How-" He stops talking when I place my hand on his shoulder.
I shift my gaze from his face to his body as I skim my fingers down his shoulder and his arm, then back up, just as slowly, until they stop at his throat.
For a long time, I stare at the hollow of his shoulder and his throat. I feel an urge, some inexplicable need that I've never felt before. "I want to bite you."
Marshall stills.
I bend over him and place my lips right over the spot. "Here."
His hands grip my arms and gently but firmly pushes me back, making me lift my gaze to his face.
The intensity in his eyes has me swallowing hard. "Marshall?"
He shakes his head. "Don't say that again unless you're ready for me to bite you right now. I won't be able to stop myself from doing it. And that's just the man talking. The wolf…"
That's when I realize it isn't just his head shaking, his hands are trembling. His eyes move to my throat. "I still might. We should stop this now. Unless you want me to."
I study him, thinking about it. Marshall feels like mine. At least that's the feeling I'm getting from the usually silent wolf half of me. My wolf views him as her mate already, even though he hasn't bitten me, which I know has to be unusual. Or maybe because we've been together so long, nearly seven years, that this is normal for shifters who stay together as long as Marshall and I have without mating.
But even after our talk the other night, I'm still not convinced a submissive and a dominant shifter can have a future.
Yes, we've been together for years, but things change after a mating. You let the other person into your soul, and you enter theirs. It's the reason I've always been so resistant whenever Marshall's brought it up over the years. I've heard too many horror stories about what can happen. It's never anything good.
Over time, the relationship becomes too one-sided, too unbalanced. I guess that can happen in human relationships as well when you have one voice loud, and the other quiet. But after the mate bond forms and you have your mate's voice in your head, the loudness is inescapable.
Relationships like mine and Marshall's usually end in heartbreak if the couple is lucky, and sometimes, far too often, the death of one when the other leaves. Maybe now Marshall doesn't mind having a submissive mate, but forever? I couldn't survive it if he walked away. I know I couldn't.
"Jenna?" Marshall's voice is soft as if he senses the dark direction my thoughts have turned.
I doubt my attempt at a smile is successful. "I won't leave, but… I'm not sure yet."
As if he knows I'm still trying to work through my thoughts, he waits. As always, he's right.
"There's a lot I'm still scared will happen. Maybe we could talk about it after… when we're home. I think I'd like to talk to Dayne and Talis about it too."
"Good idea, jellybean."
"So, I won't bite you."
"And I won't bite you."
"I'll kiss you instead," I tell him, meeting his eyes, wanting to see the effects of my words. "All over. But only if you don't move."
Marshall's deep green eyes burn. "Baby," he says soberly, "I will never move from this spot for the rest of my life."
I don't smile because my attention has turned-is already turning to his lean muscled body laid stretched out beneath me.
I strangle my urge to bite him and instead lightly skim his chest, avoiding his bandage as I stroke his pecs. I take my time, enjoying the warmth of his skin and the coiled strength I know all too well.
At the feel of his fingers brushing the curve of one of my breasts, I jerk my gaze back to his. The level of concentration on his face as he rubs the pad of his thumb over my pebbled nipple has me closing my eyes on a sigh, stilling my own exploration so I can focus on the feel of him touching me.
"Marshall," I breathe, with my eyes still closed. "This isn't you not moving."
"I have the most beautiful woman in the world kneeling naked beside me. There was always going to be a little touching. And as you can see, I'm not moving."
I've always wished to be curvier with full breasts instead of petite, but Marshall has never hidden his pleasure in stroking my breasts, in stroking me. He's always said they were the perfect size for his hands. That I was perfect. He's always made me feel beautiful, when on a good day, I'd only ever view myself as cute.
Both of his hands now caress me, and I lose myself in the feel of him touching me until I'm ready to forget about my plan to kiss him and just straddle him again.
It takes effort, serious effort, to close my hands over his and pull them away from my aching and swollen breasts when I want him to never stop. I want him to take them in his mouth. I open my eyes and meet his gaze. "That's enough."
Marshall doesn't argue. "For now, jellybean. But once I get you home, I think I want to taste them. And not just your breasts."
I briefly close my eyes at the thought of him doing just that, shifting restlessly as the scent of my arousal intensifies. "You can't say things like that," I breathe.
Before he can say anything else that'll distract me, I lean over him and kiss him. It's a hungry kiss with our tongues meeting as his hands stroke down my back and over my ass, but it's a kiss I don't let go on for too long. Marshall's kisses are far too potent.
So, after breaking the kiss despite Marshall's attempt at holding me against him, I kiss a slow path along his jaw and down his throat.
I can't stop myself from hesitating in that spot that my wolf is willing me to put my mark on him. I kiss him there instead of biting him, making him growl low in his throat.
I continue to kiss a steady path over his tanned skin, drawing the scent of him deep into my lungs. As I near my final destination, Marshall's fingers that I've felt combing through my hair suddenly tighten.
That's when I realize he isn't breathing. Just before I put my mouth on him, I glance up and find I'm right. His face is tight with tension, and he appears to be holding his breath as he stares down at me with laser focus intensity.
"You're not breathing," I remind him, as I lower my gaze to the thick erection inches from my mouth, so hard that I'm sure he's throbbing. My mouth waters.
I touch the tip of him with a finger and his breath wheezes out. I trail that same finger down his length before gripping him around his base, and then I lean closer.
"Who can breathe at a time like-ah!"
I remember the taste of him and, just like before, he tastes so good that I moan around him as I take him deeper into my mouth. The first time I had no idea what I was doing, and I was so scared of hurting him or doing something wrong that I forgot about what was most important. The reason why.
I wanted to give Marshall pleasure, more than he'd ever given me. I wanted to know what he tasted like all over, and I wanted no part of him to be unknown to me.
But this isn't the first time. This time I know what Marshall likes, and I know what will have him gripping my hair tight enough that it almost hurts, but it's a good kind of pain, it's the type that tells me he's so lost in his pleasure that nothing else matters.
As I slide my mouth up and down his length, I exert increasing pressure around his base. My hand and my mouth nearly meet halfway, but not quite. He's too thick and too long for that. It didn't stop me from trying before and it doesn't this time.
With both hands buried in my hair, Marshall groans loudly as his gentle thrusts into my mouth stop being so gentle. Even then, I don't pull away.
"Baby, you have to stop, fuck I'm close. Stop now," he growls.
I don't stop, because I never intended to stop. Not this time.
I move my hand from the base of him and grip both his hips instead as I keep sucking him. Drawing out almost all the way, I lap at the salty liquid spilling from his tip. I know it's only a matter of time before he rips me away so he can pin me to the bed and slide inside me. Just like before.
He groans deeply and for one second his hands tighten, and I know he's preparing to pull me away. Before he can do what he intends to, I draw in a deep breath, shift my body forward and swallow him.
Marshall makes a strangled sound, and his hips pump up, sliding right to the back of my throat. I don't move, just hold still, and then I lower my head a little more and moan around him.
With a harsh swear, his hips spasm as he jerks against me. The same salty liquid fills my mouth, sliding down my throat, and I swallow every last bit of it. His hands, still clenched tight in my hair, move me up and down on him as he gasps and bucks his way through a violent release.
Slowly, his motions grow less forceful and the grip on my hair eases.
When I release him and take my first look into his face, I find his eyes closed as he fights to catch his breath.
"You win, jellybean," he murmurs, as his hands fall away from my hair and his body relaxes into the bed. "I'm not going anywhere."
Seconds later, he's deep asleep.
For a long time, I do nothing but study his face, relaxed in sleep, ignoring my body's awakened arousal. This was never about my needs, but about his.
He looks so peaceful… and beautiful. After drawing the blanket over him, I smooth back strands of his long, dark-blond hair from his face.
I know women are supposed to be beautiful, not men, but Marshall is to me.
It's not about him being model-handsome, it's more than just his appearance, though I've seen the hungry look in women's eyes whenever we've gone to the diner for breakfast or lunch together. Women he never seems to even notice because he's always looking at me. No, his beauty isn't just skin-deep, it's in his soul too.
Although he said he didn't care about saving anyone other than me, I know that isn't entirely true. He cares about helping other people, too. He constantly undercharges for work in his garage. If he charges at all. He does call-outs for free, and he will bend over backward to help someone, sometimes when they're not deserving of it at all.
And somehow, he's mine.
After shaking my head, I slip on the same khaki shirt I'm getting pretty sick of wearing and rise. I'd also appreciate some underwear at some point, but again, that's a later problem. A tomorrow problem.
For now, I have to go get more wood before the fire goes out, and water too. Although Marshall could come with me, I know he needs just a few more hours of sleep and food, and I'm sure he'll have stopped bleeding enough that he won't even need a bandage anymore.
Until then, I don't want to risk making him worse, not when he's so close to being well again. I can manage one more trip to collect firewood and water. If he wants to take me to the stream later, then I won't argue with him.
With a knowledge Marshall might wake at any moment, I head for the empty hiking bag beside the door and the metal pot alongside it. I'll be quick. Now that I know where I'm going, I'll be there and back again before he's even missed me.